


On Ice and In the Room

by Mandapandaroo



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Craig is mentioned, M/M, even in an alternate universe Deran and Adrian are SUPER obvious, idk I've never posted anything so IDK what to tag, our boys are hockey players, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 04:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18985597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandapandaroo/pseuds/Mandapandaroo
Summary: He kept watching, waiting for Adrian to pop back up, start battling for the puck. He didn’t. Then time sped up again and there was a whistle and the next thing Deran remembered was whaling on number 19, gloves and stick on the ice, fists first hitting his opponents visor and then him finally making contact with his flesh and bones.





	On Ice and In the Room

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heather_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heather_Night/gifts).



> Heather! I hope you like it! So sorry about the lateness and thank you for your patience!  
> I have never written anything and posted it so I hope guys like this!  
> Thank you Iresposts SO MUCH for all your help with this!  
> (If you guys see anything wrong please let me know so I can fix it)
> 
> Deran is number 92 because he was born in 1992 and I think he would totally pick a number related to his birth date(i.e his safe combo).  
> Adrian is number 6 because that was my and my brothers number when we played and it's my favorite.  
> Also I got extremely giddy when I realized that the Scout would be a great hockey car because you can fit 2 hockey bags in the back.

“Cody! My office. Now.” 

Deran knew what his coach wanted to talk to him about, fuck the whole team knew what he wanted to talk about. Still half-dressed in his breezers, dri-fit shirt, and socks, Deran knew that his coach must be epic levels of pissed off to not be letting him get completely changed and showered before yelling at him. On the way to the office he glanced toward the one empty stall in the locker room at the name 6 DOLAN typed along with the San Diego Gulls logo on the top of the locker. Looking at it, seeing it empty, knowing that the person it belonged to was long gone, already checked into the hospital to be looked at. 

Deran flashed back to 20 minutes ago, back to watching Adrian Dolan’s head slam into the dasher behind the gulls net, helped there by number 19 of the Ontario Reign. Deran had always heard about time standing still, but he’d never experienced it until that moment. He kept watching, waiting for Adrian to pop back up, start battling for the puck. He didn’t. Then time sped up again and there was a whistle and the next thing Deran remembered was whaling on number 19, gloves and stick on the ice, fists first hitting his opponents visor and then him finally making contact with his flesh and bones. 19 didn’t even have a chance to get in a punch before he was on the ice under Deran, trying to escape. Finally the referees were able to pull Deran off of his opponent. 

“You better be giving that fucker five minutes for that hit!” Deran yelled to the ref escorting him to his team bench, looking to his opponent in the fight also being escorted to his bench by the other ref, both avoiding having to go to penalty box because there were only 9 minutes left in the 3 rd period, and he knew he’d be receiving the automatic 5 and 10 minute penalties for fighting.  He looked to the spot that Adrian had lain on the ice, terrified to see that he wasn’t there anymore. Deran hoped that he had been able to skate off on his own and not on a stretcher to be taken off the ice. 

“Oh, don’t worry he will be, but you’ll be getting an extra 5 for instigating that fight!” The ref yelled back, already skating over to the official scorers window to explain what penalties had been called, and on who. 

Deran stayed standing inside the Gulls bench waiting to hear what 19 was getting for the cheap shot on Adrian. “Ontario number 19 five minutes for boarding, five minutes for fighting! San Diego number 92 five minutes for fighting, five minutes for instigating, five minutes for unsportsmanlike conduct! Both also receive 10 minute game misconducts!” 

Deran barged his way back to the edge of the bench grabbing a stick from one of his teammates on his way and began to bang it against the outside of the bench.

“Hey! Why the fuck am I getting the extra five minutes! Did you not see that hit?” Deran yelled. 

“Cody, get your ass to the locker room!” 

“Coach!”

“I swear to god Cody get your ass in the locker room. Now.”

Deran finally relented.  Maybe he could get some information from the medical staff in the locker room about what was happening with Adrian.  

“Come on Deran. We gotta bandage up your hands and make sure you didn’t break any fingers.” Bob Kurtz one of the trainers said as he lead Deran down the tunnel and back into the locker room.

“Let's check out your hands, then if we can know if we need to go to the hospital for X-rays, and then we can wrap up your fingers,” Bob told him, leading him over to the medical table in one of the offices. Deran finally looked at his hand wondering what the big deal was about getting his hands looked.  _ Oh that’s why. _ His knuckles looked like ground meat, the result of hitting the edge of his opponents face shield a couple of times, and hard cheekbones for the rest of the blows Deran was able to land. He watched as his right hand was palpated, including his fingers and knuckles. 

“Well. Looks like you escaped any breaks or fractures,” said Bob.

“That’s cause I know how to throw a punch. Bob, where’s Adrian? I missed it, did he get stretchered off?”

“He’s at the hospital.” Bob just looked at him. “You know I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Please, Bob,” Deran grabbed his hand to stop him from putting away the supplies he’d had used to clean and bandage his knuckles. 

Bob paused. “Deran I can’t tell you anything beyond that he is at the hospital and was awake when he left. The game will be over soon, talk to your coach, change, and then you can go see him and check on him yourself.” 

So Deran started to change, getting as far as taking off his jersey and shoulder pads. While watching TV screen, he saw the tied score and winced knowing when they had been sent off the ice the Gulls had been leading by 2. He sighed when he saw the puck enter the net for the game winner. And so he sat and waited for his teammates and coaches to return to the locker room, not changing or showering not wanting to make his coach wait for him once he was ready to talk. 

His coach finally came into his office. Deran sat, staring at the ‘Mike Evans’ name plate that sat in the front of his coach’s desk glancing up occasionally, waiting for him to start talking. Finally Mike sighed and said tiredly: “Deran you can’t do that anymore. I know how you feel about Adrian, but you can’t react like that when he gets hit. He is a skilled player people are going to come at him hard, and he has accepted that. But you need to as well. Because when you do things like what you just did out there—” he paused to point outside of his office door toward the locker room and the ice “—we not only lose Adrian on the ice, we lose the power play we were going to get, but we lose you too. We need you. Adrian would want you out there trying to score goals to punish the assholes that did him dirty, not sitting in the locker room in your sweaty gear.”

“I know Coach.”

“I’m serious, Deran. You have to get your temper on the ice under control, or it’s going to cost you your career”

“I know!” he replied wanting to get out of here, to get to the hospital to check on Adrian.

“Alright. I assume you and Adrian drove in together tonight for the game?”

Deran nodded. The whole team knew that they lived together as roommates and as best friends since childhood. Sometimes Deran wondered if they — the team, the coaches, all knew they were more than that, they could only pretend to pick up girls during team nights before the guys started to realize something was up between them. For most people it was a dream to get called up to the NHL, but Deran was the opposite he thought it was a blessing that they didn’t, there would be press, team media people journalists, in the NHL all asking about the boyhood best friends being drafted to the same team and still living together at 27. Just— a boatload of other fucking people just asking to many damn questions. 

“Okay so here is what you are going to do: gather his clothes and go meet him at the hospital, he has a room,” said Mike.

“What’s wrong with him?” Deran was not able to resist interrupting, knowing his coach would tell him even if the trainers couldn’t. 

Mike shot him an unimpressed look. “He has a concussion they know that for sure, he had some X-rays done because there was maybe some facial damage.” Deran drew in a sharp breath. He’d known that face since they were kids, he knew Adrian’s face better than his. It could— Deran didn’t finish that thought and tried to get his mind back to what his coach was saying, “Gather his stuff, go to the hospital, and if he can be discharged tonight take him home.” Deran hoped Adrian was alright and able to walk out of the place, because if he wasn’t, he’d have to deal with Adrian’s Dad. That homophobic asshole. Adrian’s  _ official _ next-of-kin. 

“The team is off tomorrow, and you are off tomorrow and the next day, so you can look after him, you know how to handle concussions,” said Mike. Deran winced and nodded, he did unfortunately know how to handle concussions. He and Adrian had each had a couple throughout their careers, they had even had one at the same time at one point but that had been from surfing. Deran tried not to think about the day, and all the damage they were doing to their bodies playing the sports that they loved, finally manifested itself in bad knees, bad ankles, a bad back, and most of the time Deran was scared for their heads. Concussions were a scary thing, and the scariest thing about them was the unknown they presented, not knowing when you would recover from them, if you ever really were recovered, and when you did what would be the effect later in life. Deran could buy a new knee, but he can’t replace his  brain.  _ Or Adrian’s.  _

“I’ll see you in two days, Cody,” Coach said dismissing Deran from his office. 

As Deran approached his locker, his teammates were long gone, with the rest just pulling on their suits and getting ready to head home. It was worth it to them to spend some time smelling their rank sweaty selves in their own cars, and shower at home to be able to start their day off as soon as possible. He started taking off the rest of his gear, hanging it up methodically as he did, knowing that if he didn’t do it before his shower then there would be no way it would get done at all. As Deran looked up from unstrapping his suspenders from his socks, he noticed he wasn’t alone anymore. 

“Hey man,” the Gulls captain, Justin Sutherland greeted him as walked out of one of the trainer’s room already dressed in his dress pants, shoes and undershirt “—just needed to get my shoulder looked at to make sure it doesn’t turn into anything bad in the next couple of days.”

“Yeah man,” Deran sighed and sat down at his stall and looked at the ground. “Hey, I’m uh, sorry for what happened out there. I gotta be more responsible than that, it’s not helpful to anyone, me or the team, when I lose my head like that.”

He could hear Sutherland finish buttoning his dress shirt and pull on his suit coat. The next thing Deran know he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay man we get it,” said Justin. Deran thought that they really didn’t.  _ They really didn’t get what Adrian meant to him. What they meant to each other _ .  “ _ Yes, _ we do Deran,” Justin finished. There was a funny emphasis on the Yes. Deran’s breathing sped up. Deran looked up, meeting Justin’s eyes, realizing he must have said some of that thought out loud. He saw Justin make a small nodding motion, gripping Deran’s shoulder a little tighter. “We do.”

Deran just blinked up at him, he could feel his heart start pounding, feel his hands start sweating, feel the need to stand up and tell him  _ he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about _ , and  _ what the  _ _ fuck he was insinuating about them _ . He wanted to hit Justin (he flashed back to a time he’d been stupid, when he’d hit Adrian, to hide, he didn’t want to go there again), he just wanted to run and hide. Then he remembered they had been teammates on this team, with Justin and the others, for years. Sure guys came and went, but no one had ever said anything. Not good or bad about them.  

There had never been any words casually tossed around the locker room, no “fags, pansies, cocksuckers” thrown out when talking about opponents, referees, or even fans. Deran had never noticed, he had never really had issues with those words, but Adrian did, he hated them. Deran had never really paid attention to the lack of them used, and used to ignoring them whether they were directed at him or not.  But they knew. This group of guys that he had been a part of since he was 22 they knew and they didn’t care. He and Adrian weren’t alone anymore. 

Deran’s eyes were tearing up, the weight of everything hitting him (the game in general, Adrian getting hurt, his fight, and his team knowing about them,  _ fuck their team knew about them _ , and astoundingly  _ were okay with it _ ). All of a sudden exhausted, the adrenaline abandoning him, all Deran could do was nod. Justin nodded back, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“Come on dude. You gotta get changed and get to the hospital, Adrian is probably driving all the nurses nuts asking to come home. Or like flirting with them and showing off his arms or something.”

Deran nodded again and stood up and continued to take off his gear. 

“See you guys in a couple of days,” Justin called out over his shoulder.

Deran finally was able to finish taking off his gear, grabbed his toiletries and headed to the team showers. 

He was fully dressed before he even looked at his phone, afraid if he looked before he was getting ready to leave he’d get distracted. When he finally looked he saw the six new text messages. Four of them were from his older brother Craig and two were from Adrian.  _ Ah someone must have grabbed his phone for him before he left for the hospital _ . He looked at the oldest messages first, all of them from Craig. 

_ *WTF was that hit?* _

_ *Damn bro you kicked his ass* _

_ *WHY THE FUCK DID YOU GET THE XTRA 5* _

_ *tough loss*  _

Deran winced at the last one. Yeah, it had been. He then looked at the texts from Adrian, not sure what mood the texts would be in but knowing that tell him a lot about how he was feeling.

_ *I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck* _

_ *Dude are you gonna come here or what I’m bored as fuck* _

Deran snorted at that well if he could complain and be bossy then he wasn’t feeling as bad he could be. 

* _ Yea yea I'm on my way, gonna bring you a change of clothes*  _ Deran texted back. He immediately received a response:  _ *fucking finally, im in rm 302*  _

As Deran gathered up the last of his stuff, he made sure to grab a team branded hoodie and a pair of sweatpants in Adrian's size, so that he would have something comfy to wear home once he was released from the hospital. 

Once he was able to find parking, Deran sat in his Scout and psyched himself up to go in. He hated hospitals.

As he walked he looked around for the front desk, because even if he knew Adrian's number, he needed to check himself in as a guest. Hospitals didn’t like random strangers wandering about the corridors. Finally finding reception Deran was relieved to see there wasn’t a line of people waiting. The hospital relatively empty, considering the late hour. 

“Hi. I'm here to see Adrian Dolan.” He said to the receptionist, giving her is most charming smile, hoping she wouldn't ask to many questions. He ran his hand through his hair nervously, tucking it behind his ear. He noticed that his hand was shaking. Huh. 

“No problem! Just need to see your I.D to set up your visitors pass.”

He sighed and reached for his billfold to pull out his drivers license. Deran watched as she typed the information into her computer, clacking away for far too long. Finally she finished and handed it back to him. 

“Just a couple of questions I need you to answer, Mr. Cody,” she said, glancing from her computer screen to meet his eyes. 

“Okay.” Fuck. He didn't wanna deal with this shit tonight.  

“Do you know who Mr. Dolan’s emergency contacts are?”

“Uh. Yes, it is myself and his older sister Jess uh, I mean Jessica Dolan,” he said hoping it was true. He vaguely remembered now that Adrian had said he was going to change his next-of-kin officially, after what had happened with his Dad. 

“Okay and final question, what relation are you to Mr. Dolan?”

Fuck. Deran really didn’t want to answer. 

“I’m his ah… his uh,” he looked down at her, her expectant face waiting for his answer. He thought there wasn’t any judgement in her face while she waiting for his answer.

“I’m his partner,” Deran got out. Nothing happened. The walls didn’t cave in, police didn’t come out of the walls to arrest him because he had acknowledged his relationship to Adrian. She just typed it in to her computer. 

“Alright Mr. Cody. Here is the pass to get through the elevators up to the third floor. Just show it to one of the nurses sitting at the desks and tell them you are looking for room 302.”

Yeah Deran wasn’t ask anybody for help he could find Adrian’s room. Once he got into the elevator, he inserted the ID card the receptionist had given him, selected floor three, and waited. The first door he saw once he stepped out of the elevator was 306. He looked to the right and the number on the room next to it was 307, with the room to the left 305, so he started walking left and wanted to laugh. Did she really think he would need help finding it? Like did she think they were all concussed or something?

Stopping in front of the right door Deran pushed it open, and saw Adrian sitting in the hospital bed messing around on his phone.

“Hey,” Deran said and set the bag with Adrian’s change of clothes on the chair by the door. He softly walked towards Adrian, eyes roaming over his face, taking in the black eyes and bruised nose. “How are you feeling? They give you any news yet?” He asked, reaching out and cupping his hand underneath Adrian’s chin, tilting his head one way then the other to take in the damage. 

“Yeah, no facial structure damage, no fractures, just very bruised up,” said Adrian.

“Is that it?” Deran asked, knowing that Adrian had been very out of it when he had left the ice.

“Oh yeah and a concussion bad enough that they want to keep me here overnight for observation,” answered Adrian.

“Hhhmmmm. I figured as much,” every time he looked at Adrian it felt like he was watching him get hit over and over again. His face hitting the boards and then hitting the ice, he could only think about how much worse it could have been, an inch or two one way or the other, and it would have been more than his head, it could have been his bones and body. 

“Yeah at this rate my brain is gonna be Spaghetti-Os by the time we’re ready to retire,” said Adrian leaning his face into Deran’s caresses. Deran noticed his hands were still shaking a little. 

He sighed, not sure what to say to his partner to reassure him that they would be okay. Especially in the sport they played, because as much as they looked out for each other on and off the ice, there were things they couldn’t avoid. They could protect themselves from the clean hits, but even those could turn bad, they could protect themselves from the dirty hits, but those were usually the ones that you couldn’t see coming. Fuck even then there were the freak accidents, plays were they may have just lost their footing and hit the ice, no ones fault but gravity and the nature of playing on ice. 

Deran reached out and ran his fingers through Adrian’s hair where it had fallen over his forehead. 

“Hey. We will be ok.”

Adrian scoffed. “Deran I am literally lying in a hospital bed. You have your knuckles bandaged from a fight. We aren’t terrible, but we are a bit far from  _ okay _ .”

“We will be! You know why?” Deran’s voice was uncharacteristically cheerful but he meant it. He tilted Adrian’s head up, finger under his chin.

“Why?” Adrian asked, meeting his eyes. 

“Because we will be together. No matter what will be together and we will have each other,” said Deran. HIs voice wobbled a bit.

“When did you become so fucking corny?” Adrian asked. 

“Ah, just got reminded tonight that we got some pretty good guys on our side,” said Deran. Even thinking about what Justin had said made his chest feel full, like there were too many things inside him. 

“Okay...” Adrian said, his eyebrows now raised in suspicion. 

“Now move your fat ass over so I have room up there,” Deran said, making a scoot over gesture at Adrian. 

“What they fuck are you talking about Deran? Didn’t you hear me? I’ve got a concussion they are gonna be waking me up every 2 hours. You might as well go home.” said Adrian grumpily. He knew what he was in for. Not sleeping a wink and having a flashlight aimed at his face every so often. Plus hospital noise. Coughing. Clattering. 

“Wrong! They are gonna be waking  _ us  _ up every 2 hours. Because of what I just said, because we are together, and we will stay together whenever we can. I need to be here with you right now. For me, I need to be here with you for me.” 

Adrian nodded, not used to Deran being so open with what he needed, finally moving over to make room for him to crawl up into the hospital bed. Deran climbed in and rested his head on Adrian’s shoulder, arm around his waist and closed his eyes. 

“Hey, I love you, you know?” Deran heard Adrian whisper from above. 

“I know. I do too.” Deran responded, he heard the happy little hum that Adrian let out. 

“Good night 92.”

“Good night 6.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
